


That One Time Deputy Stilinski Went To A Pride Festival (And Kissed The Organizer)

by bravobeavo



Series: That One Time When [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 00:43:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2046549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravobeavo/pseuds/bravobeavo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If anyone had told Stiles that when he accompanied his dad to contain a protest by the local church against the pride festival being held in downtown Beacon Hills that he'd end up mackin' on a random guy who turned out to be his ex babysitter turned sexy university professor he probably wouldn't have believed them. Probably. Especially if they included the part where he gets a date out of it in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That One Time Deputy Stilinski Went To A Pride Festival (And Kissed The Organizer)

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short ficlet I couldn't resist writing based on the below image.  
> There is hope for either a sequel or this becoming a series because holy hell Deputy Stilinski and Professor Hale are my faves, let me know what you think.

Based on [this lovely photo ](http://tmblr.co/ZVKMyt1MtiFa3)found on tumblr

 

It's 3:45 P.M. on a Friday afternoon when they get the call. Not that they didn't have knowledge of the festival prior, they had just hoped that things wouldn't get out of hand. Beacon Hills was a fairly small town so when the college's LGBTQIA office came to the sheriff with the proposal of a small pride festival being held for the community college and high school students, John had been all for it. He was actually almost certain that if his 24 year old son, Stiles, hadn't been scheduled to work with him he would have attended himself; decked out in a rainbow brotank, neon red shorts, and dark aviators. As it is, though, Stiles is the one at the desk who answers the call and comes marching up to the sheriff's desk with a furious expression. Even in his deputy uniform, John can't help but flashback to the stubborn, hyperactive four year old who insisted that one day he'd fight "crime like his daddy".  
  
"There are protestors from a local church at the pride festival." Stiles hissed, his eyes flashing as though it was an offense to him personally. John supposed it was, after all if anyone knew what it was like to be bullied for your sexuality it was Stiles. He'd struggled in high school, even with his best friend Scott by his side and one of the most popular boys in his class being gay, John knew that. But he supposed that paired with Stiles' overall geeky exterior (seriously, graphic t shirts, flannels, skinny jeans, and vans 24/7) students had viewed him as an easy target, regardless of his position on the lacrosse team and consistently impressive grades in multiple AP courses.  
  
The joke was on them though, John knew that Stiles had pulled over a number of his former peers for speeding tickets since taking up position as deputy.  
  
"How many?" John asked, pushing his chair back to stand and venture around the edge of his desk. Stiles shifted his weight from foot to foot anxiously.  
  
"The woman on the phone, Laura, said twenty, maybe thirty? Enough to cause a disturbance, and I'm pretty sure she's the one who organized the thing so she sounded pretty irritated. I could hear shouting in the background." He muttered, amber eyes staring up at his father through his lashes. John sighed.  
  
"Would you rather me call in Parrish to go with me?" He asked, flicking his son's badge as he walked past him to grab his coat. As he slipped it on he turned to see Stiles grinning at him.  
  
"Hell no," his son exclaimed, bouncing on his heels, "Are you kidding me? Explaining to cynical bigots that homosexuals have the same basic human rights as they do is like my favorite past time, Dad. The faces they make!" He cut himself off with a delighted laugh.  
  
John shook his head with a wry grin and left his office without a backwards glance, knowing that Stiles would be right on his heels. They went striding out of the station, Stiles giving the others a cheerful wave when they watched him with fond exasperation. Stiles slid into the passenger seat of John's cruiser with the grace of a giraffe causing John to duck his head to hide his chuckle. This was Beacon Hills' finest crime solver.  
  
On the way to the festival which was being held in downtown Stiles proceeded to rant about a plethora of protests against pride events that had gone down in history for turning violent or disruptive. The sheriff scoffed, "Stiles, I doubt this is going to escalate beyond a shouting match. It's Beacon Hills, not New York City."  
  
Stiles rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to protest, but closed it upon seeing the scene they were approaching. Central downtown had been blocked off due to the mirade of white tents lining the roads, themes running from making your own tie-dyed shirts to body art to chocolate funnel cakes with rainbow sprinkles. At first there was a small smile pulling at Stiles' lips, a wistful expression in seeing the number of teenagers and college students milling around the tents, clothes vibrant and arms sporting multiple rainbow bands.  
  
The quirk of his lips quickly drew into a frown though as he noticed most of the slowly edging away from the far side of the street, eyes darting around uncomfortably. A few were even grabbing their friends and walking back to the parking lots where their cars presumedly were. Lining the other side of the street was a gathering of conservatively dressed protestors. Their picket signs were large and held high above their heads so as to be clearly read by the supporters.  
  
The messages were harsh. Some were alright, simple quotes from the bible or tirades about sin, but others were more violent sporting words such as "God hates fags" or "burn in Hell". Stiles flinched and fidgeted uncomfortably.  
  
John parked the cruiser along the side of the road and reached over to pat his son's knee before switching into sheriff mode and climbing out of the car. Stiles followed his lead, squaring his shoulders and holding his back a little straighter than usual. Both sides seemed to relax slightly at their appearance, a few of the teens smiling at Stiles. John wasn't surprised to spot Danny, Scott, Allison, and Lydia waving at Stiles from one of the tents that Deaton had set up in support of the festival.  
  
Across the street there was a preacher stood with his arms crossed wearing a grim expression as a woman in worn oxfords, a loose button down, and black shorts waved her hands at him wildly. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head and her left cheek boasted a slightly smudged painting of a rainbow flag. Laura Hale, John knew her after working with her several times at the community college as she was a professor of law there.  
  
He made a beeline for her immediately, as the two appeared to be the representatives chosen to talk things out between the two groups. Stiles followed, tripping slightly in his haste as he nodded to his friends before schooling his expression.  
  
As they approached he could hear bits and pieces of the dispute taking place. "It was approved by the city that we held this festival here!" Laura was exclaiming, hands planted firmly on her hips, "We're not breaking any laws!"  
  
"You are!" The preacher fired back, pointing an accusing finger at her, "You're breaking God's law! And that's the most important law there is!"  
  
Laura and Stiles both rolled their eyes in unison, the sheriff clearing his throat loudly to interject. "I understand there's a slight problem here?"  
  
"Slight?!" Laura screeched, "These protestors are scaring away our students! This festival was meant to make them feel comfortable and empowered, not alienated by their own town!"  
  
The preacher growled and took a step toward the infuriated woman, "Allowing this sort of advertisement to take place would convince our children that Beacon Hills was a town bathed in sin! It's an atrocity! I won't have my children thinking this sort of lifestyle is encouraged!"  
  
The sheriff furrowed his eyebrows and placed a hand on each of their shoulders, keeping them away each other as though he were afraid they might go at each other's throats. The preacher towered over the oldest Hale, but instead of intimidating her it seemed to only make her stand taller, her shoulders squared and her jaw tight.  
  
Somewhere in the midst of his father opening his mouth to explain to the preacher that yes the festival had been approved by the city council and Laura giving the older man a patented told-you-so look, Stiles was pulled away by one of the picketing protestors. The woman was middle aged, her blonde hair probably less natural than McDonald's chicken and her left hand flashing a gawdy wedding ring. Stiles had a brief second to wonder what his wedding ring would look like before he remembered that he didn't have a boyfriend and the woman was definitely talking to him now.  
  
"You're here to put an end to all this, aren't you?" She asked, voice hopeful. At first Stiles simply blinked at her before giving her a friendly smile.  
  
"Well we're hoping to appease both sides so that the college can continue with their festival for the rest of the day without disrupting the town." He offered professionally. He had hoped she would leave it at that, but instead the woman gave a decidedly appalled gasp.  
  
"You mean you intend to let them carry on with this?!" She asked incredulously. Stiles stared and nodded slowly, "But you simply can't allow this! It's your duty!"  
  
"My duty is to make sure citizens are adhering to the law," Stiles recited, flinching at the sure sound of the department laughing at him when he relayed this story later, "And the college is doing nothing wrong by holding this festival."  
  
"No!" The woman exclaimed, "Everything about this is wrong! Those people are abominations!"  
  
Stiles frowned, "'Those people' are doing nothing wrong." He reiterated calmly.  
  
"They're out here flaunting their disgusting lifestyle!" She shouted, drawing the attention of the sheriff who glanced over from where the preacher was caught in the middle of a similar rant as Laura gave him an unimpressed glare, "The next thing you know my boys will be coming home from school telling me it's okay to be queer!"  
  
"It _is_ okay to be queer!" Stiles replied, careful not to raise his voice against the woman.  
  
Her mouth snapped shut and she stared at him, blue eyes wide before they glinted with someone knowing and she leaned away from him, "You're _one of them_ , aren't you?"  
  
Stiles sighed and rolled his eyes, "With all due respect, my sexual orientation is not relevant to handling thi-"  
  
"Of course it is!" She cut him off sharply, causing him to raise an eyebrow, "It's clear now why the city let this happen. There's fags in the system! Abusing the power and using it to their advantage!"  
  
Stiles was sure his eyes must have been bulging out of his head now, his mind whirring to catch up as the woman raised her voice so as to be heard, "Just another way people like you are finding ways to force your sin upon us innocents!"  
  
Stiles could see a few of the protestors eyeing him wearily, obviously agreeing with the woman as their eyes slid over to the sheriff who was watching him in a way he knew was his way of regretting not calling in Deputy Parrish instead. Stiles squared his shoulders and looked her dead in the eye.  
  
"You want to know what it's like to have someone force their lifestyle on you?" He snapped, "Try going to your college's pride festival with a few friends, maybe even just as allies, and being told by a group of strangers that you're going to perish because society hates you!"  
  
The woman's eyebrows shot up, but Stiles could see the sparkle in her eyes that betrayed her pleasure in having riled him up. He couldn't stand that smug look. So he decided to find a way to wipe it right off her face.  
  
A flash of rainbow was dancing in his peripheral and Stiles spun towards it. There was a man standing not far from him in a tank and khaki shorts, his dark aviators glinting in the bright sunlight as he twirled a rainbow flag between his fingers with a displeased expression. Stiles had time to register a shadow of dark stubble before his hand shot out to grasp a (fuck, firm, thick, muscled) bicep and wrenched the guy in for a kiss, long fingers snatching the flag from his hand and shoving it proudly above their heads.  
  
The other man gave a small, shocked noise before his lips parted and his teeth nipped at Stiles' soft lower lip. He opened easily, tongue sneaking out to taste the definite remnants of one of the powered funnel cakes that Stiles was definitely planning on trying later. A wide palm pressed against his shoulder, but instead of pushing him away the other man's fingers curled in his vest to pull him closer with the barest brush of tongue before they were both pulling back with equally pleased grins at the sound of a wolf whistle that Stiles is certain was either Scott or Danny.  
  
The people around them are staring with wide eyes and Stiles let his hand fall from the guy's (fuck, firm, thick, muscled) bicep with a smirk as he turned back to find the woman pale faced and gaping, " _That_ is what it looks like to 'flaunt' my lifestyle."  
  
He's startled back to reality when he hears a familiar snort and turned to see the Sheriff coughing into his hand, eyes glimmering with mirth as Laura gave him a smile that was a cross between awestruck and bemused. Stiles blushed, the impact of what he'd just done sinking in as he turned to apologize to the possibly taken and/or straight guy whose tongue he'd just sucked on only to find that said guy has disappeared completely. Stiles scratched the back of his neck anxiously, wondering if he's majorly screwed up, but then the woman is giving a disgusted huff and marching away to the back of the group of protestors. That's definitely a win.  
  
He shuffles back over to where the priest is looking at him like he just gave a full on bdsm exhibitionist show in the middle of the street and John is stuttering out apologies and trying not to sound entirely too amused by everything happening.  
  
Laura punched his shoulder lightly and he looked up to see her smirking at him. He raised an eyebrow, but she waved a hand in dismissal so he shrugged it off.  
  
He was silent for the rest of the transaction, listening to his father explain that while the college students' festival was not viewed as a public disturbance as they'd received city permission, the protesting was and that they needed to disperse from the area. The priest eventually grumbled out an affirmative, ignoring the shoulder clap that John gave him and turning to guide his sheep back in the direction from whence they came. Stiles snorted.  
  
Laura sighed, smiling at John and throwing an arm around both officers' shoulders. "Thanks for that!"  
  
"It's the least we could do... You put a lot of effort into organizing this thing and it turned out pretty friggin' awesome. Couldn't let some anally retentive jerks ruin it for you." Stiles replied, shooting her a smile.  
  
She blinked at him, "Me? Wait, you think I put this shindig together?"  
  
Stiles nodded slowly, suddenly apprehensive.  
  
"Oh no, no, no. This was all Derek!" She said, giving a sweeping gesture to the students who were now all milling around comfortably again. Stiles choked.  
  
"Wait you... You mean Derek as in your brother, Derek?" He asked, trying to feign casualty, but failing epically if the look his dad was giving him was any hint.  
  
"Yeah!" She continued, smiling proudly, "Derek wanted to do something for his students and he decided to do something that was close to his heart as well."  
  
"Derek as in your brother Derek Hale who went to Columbia to study sociology?" Stiles asked, squinting at her.  
  
Laura nodded, "Yup, he got his teaching license and came back to teach at the college. He heads the LGBTQIA office at the college too." She said, also feigning casualness. By this point if the Sheriff tried to roll his eyes any harder they'd fall out of his head.  
  
Stiles froze mid step. "Wait..."  
  
Laura quirked an eyebrow at him expectantly as his dad gave an exasperated sigh.  
  
"You're telling me Derek Hale, your brother, came back from Columbia, is teaching sociology at BHCC, and is the head of the LGB- wait is Derek gay?!" Stiles flailed slightly, eyes wide.  
  
"Considering that you just shoved your tongue down his throat a couple minutes ago and he wasn't exactly displeased with it... Yeah." She said.  
  
Shoved his.... No way. Stiles thought of the shadow of dark stubble, the broad shoulders, the thick eyebrows furrowed above reflective aviators and...  
  
Holy shit. He laid one on his fucking high school crush. The guy that had made him realize for the first time that he might not be as into Lydia Martin as he boasted to be when thinking of Derek's sweaty locker room torso made him come faster than any part of the female anatomy ever could.  
  
Laura was chuckling beside him, his dad slowly pressing a palm to his own forehead as they watched Stiles fumble for his composure. "I don't- I mean- I should probably apologize for that, right? I mean not that it was bad or that I'm regretting it because _wow_ I am so not regretting that, I just don't know if _he's_ regretting it."  
  
"Stiles, breathe," Laura scoffed cheerfully, "Trust me, Derek is _not_ regretting that one bit. Actually I'm just thankful that you kept him from going off on the protestors, I think that's initially what he came over to do, but there wasn't much he could say with your tongue in his mouth!"  
  
Stiles choked on a laugh, blushing as his Dad gave a worn sigh and rolled his eyes. He clasped a hand onto Stiles' shoulder, pulling him close, "Why don't you hang around here since Scott and the gang are already here, and I'll go back to the station to write a report."  
  
Stiles gave him a shocked look, but nodded ecstatically. He fumbled to remove his heavy vest and handed it over to the Sheriff along with his gear belt, knowing he wouldn't need either. "I'll have Scott give me a ride back to the station to pick up the jeep."  
  
John nodded and waved behind him as he sauntered back to the cruiser which sat parallel to the opposite street. He threw Stiles' gear into the passenger seat and have his son a wink before he cranked the engine and went pealing away from the curb.  
  
Stiles turned back to Laura who was giving him a knowing look, "Well," she drawled, smirking at him, "I'll let you go catch up with your friends."  
  
"Yeah! Yes," Stiles scratched a hand over his still short hair and searched between the crowd for Deaton's tent. As soon as he spotted it he could see Allison leaning against Scott's shoulder giving him a private smile. "Yeah that's a good idea..."  
  
Laura nodded and turned to leave before glancing at him over her shoulder, "And just so you know, Derek will be around until clean up. In case you wanted to... Catch up with him."  
  
Before Stiles could respond she was disappearing into the crowd of students milling around and gone from his sight. He sighed and flicked his gaze back to where Scott was getting the life kissed out of him and turned to make his way toward the tent that was billowing with the sweet smell of funnel cakes and powdered sugar. He was entitled, okay?  
  
As he walked he couldn't help but scan the crowd for Derek. He couldn't believe he hadn't recognized the guy that had been his admitted high school obsession. You'd think after all the time he'd spent catching Derek's eyes in the hallway and sneaking glances at him in the locker room after lacrosse games. Maybe he would've recognized him from behind. Not like he could _ever_ forget dat ass.  
  
He felt himself stir in his uniform pants and flushed, knowing no one would notice but feeling a little dirty about being surrounded by students who were watching him like some sort of hero.  
  
"Stiles?" A deep voice croaked from behind him and tore him from his thoughts of young fantasy Derek sweeping wide palms over the flat expanse of his soapy abs as Stiles whirled around to find a pair of bright hazel green eyes staring at him hopefully.  
  
"Uhm," Stiles choked out eloquently, his brain grinding to a halt as he stared at the man before him. Derek was taller now, his broad shoulders more fitting as his chest had widened some and was framed by firm, thick, muscled biceps. Biceps that Stiles vaguely remembers having his hands wrapped around moments before.  
  
Note to self there are three things that age well: fine wine, authentic cheese, and Derek fucking Hale.  
  
"Derek! Hi!" Stiles stuttered, his fingers twitched as he felt his cheeks warm and his palms grow sweaty. It was like high school all over again.  
  
"Hey," Derek replied, giving him a lopsided smile that had Stiles' stomach doing Olympic worthy acrobatics, "Long time no see?" He offered awkwardly.  
  
"You left," Stiles blurted, resisting the immediate urge to slap himself in the forehead, "I mean you- you went to Columbia and we didn't really stay in touch, not that we were in touch to begin with since, you know, five year age gap and I was kinda lame in high school whereas you were... _not,_ even remotely, so that probably explained that, actually I'm surprised you remember me at all because-"  
  
"Oh I remember you," Derek cut in, his eyebrow quirked into a slightly amused expression in the face of Stiles' ranting, "You're definitely the same Stiles I remember."  
  
Stiles flushed at that and shuffled awkwardly, ashamed of his rambling, "Sorry. I tend to do that a lot."  
  
Derek stared at him for a moment with an unreadable expression before he reached out to knock Stiles' shoulder lightly, "That's good, I'm not much of a talker myself so maybe it'll make up for it. You're getting one of those right?" He asked, jutting his chin toward the display of chocolate drizzled funnel cakes. Stiles nodded hesitantly. "Cool. My treat? We can sit down and catch up, if you'd like?"  
  
Stiles couldn't believe his ears and couldn't get his throat to work either so he simply nodded dumbly and watched as Derek sauntered up to the table.  
  
The dark skinned man at the money box gave him a knowing grin which Derek scoffed at and made a comment that had Derek shoving at his shoulder playfully. His brown eyes slid back to Stiles who offered a little wave as he recognized the silent content in the man's expression, Vernon Boyd who had played lacrosse and graduated with Derek. He dated that blonde bombshell, Erica Rayes. In fact, if Stiles was remembering correctly, he'd seen on Facebook a few months ago that they were engaged now.  
  
Stiles sighed, sinking down onto the bench of one of the empty picnic tables and rested his head on the cool surface. Most of the people he'd gone to school with we're getting married or having kids now, yet here he was at 24 still single and freaking out because his high school crush has moved back into town. _What the hell, Stiles_.  
  
He's torn from his thoughts by the sound of a plate clattering onto the wooden table and he looked up to find Derek sliding into the bench beside him. His left knee was rested in front of him on the bench so that his entire body was facing the younger man, eyebrows raised as he held out on of the two forks he was holding and gestured to the mountain of funnel cake between them.  
  
Stiles took the fork and smiled at him, "Thanks for this," he muttered.  
  
Derek shrugged, cutting off a chunk of pastry with the side of his fork and shoveling it into his mouth. He chewed for a moment before swallowing thickly, "Consider it a thank you, for handling the protestors."  
  
Stiles barked out a laugh around his own bite and covered his mouth quickly, "You can thank my dad for that!" He said honestly, "I was practically just there for moral support. Sometimes I think that's what being the deputy is about."  
  
Derek smiled, unfazed, "Consider it payback then." He replied.  
  
Stiles gave him a questioning look, licking up the bit of chocolate syrup that was running down the edge of his fork and wondering if the way Derek's eyes followed his tongue was his imagination, "Payback for what?"  
  
He shifted in the seat, turning to face Derek more as the older man looked down, cheeks pinking slightly. "For catching me by surprise?" He looked up at Stiles through his lashes as he poked at another bite of pastry and pursed his lips.  
  
"Oh yeah!" Stiles exclaimed, catching on immediately, "That was- you mean- the uhm..." He trailed off, not wanting to say the word. For Christ's sake he was 24. "The kiss."  
  
Derek nodded, the corners of his lips twitching into a small smile.  
  
"Sorry about that," Stiles mumbled, "I tend to be sort of impulsive, it's one of the things my dad has tried to beat out of me since becoming deputy but I think it's sort of ingrained into my personality."  
  
Derek chuckled, "Shoot first, ask questions later?"  
  
"Something like that, though I've never actually shot someone," Stiles said contemplatively. Derek huffed out another laugh and for a few moments they simply ate in silence, choosing instead to listen to the dozens of students coming and going around them; which struck a thought in Stiles' head.  
  
"Laura said you organized all this by yourself?" He asked, looking up to meet Derek's eyes. The man nodded slowly, swallowing the bite he was chewing before responding.  
  
"Yeah I teach sociology at BHCC and head the LGBTQIA support office there. Today's events are going to spark some interesting debates in class, I can already see that. I wanted my students to have a chance to connect with some of the high schoolers, you know? College is a lot more accepting of diversity, and I wanted them to help me show that. I guess it kind of backfired."  
  
He looked down at the last bite on the plate and pushed it toward Stiles, "I know first hand how close minded people in this town can be," Stiles grumbled, "If there's anything high school taught me..."  
  
Derek looked up at him with a shocked expression, "You were bullied?"  
  
"Yeah," Stiles answered, giving a self depreciating laugh, "You didn't notice how many times I had to get my locker changed for 'precautionary measures'?"  
  
"I... Stiles," Derek leaned in closer, not breaking eye contact, "You should have told me."  
  
"Told you?" Stiles scoffed, "Derek we never talked at school! We never hung out, we were practically strangers."  
  
"Strangers?" Derek asked incredulously, "I used to babysit you as a kid, we were hardly strangers. You could've come to me, Stiles."  
  
"And told you what, huh?" Stiles' gut twisted, "That the dumb, hyperactive kid you used to watch was getting his feelings hurt by the older kids because he was geeky and awkward and maybe would rather sneak into the locker room with the lacrosse players than the cheerleaders?"  
  
"Stiles," Derek cut him off gruffly, his hand coming up to rest on the place where the younger man's neck met his shoulder, "It's so much more than that. _You're_ so much more than that."  
  
Stiles stared at him for a moment, watching as Derek's forehead wrinkled with sincerity and suddenly he felt like it was getting harder to breathe, "I didn't come to you because I was scared they would tell you. I started getting bullied because Jackson Whittemore caught me staring at you in the cafeteria and figured out that I had like the king of crushes on you. And like you said, you used to babysit me, I was just a kid to you and I didn't want you to think it was some sort of misplaced homoerotic hero worship."  
  
Derek listened to him with an open expression, the pinched look in his eyes and mouth slowly fading away into what could only be described as a look of unabashed affection. When Stiles finished he was smiling at the younger man, his hand still resting on the joint between shoulder and neck.  
  
Stiles looked up at him hesitantly, his cheeks warm with blush as he bit his lip anxiously. Derek watched his teeth pull at the soft flesh for a moment before he met his eyes once more. "Isaac used to tease me because he said I had a thing for jailbait." Derek admitted softly, his thumb tracing a stray mole along Stiles' collarbone, "I used to tell him that you were an exception, not an obsession, but who was I kidding. The hyperactive kid who I used to watch Batman with was suddenly this tall, gangly teenager with the sharpest wit and the most annoyingly cute smile, what was I supposed to do?"  
  
"Take me to prom?" Stiles blurted, reaching up to pinch his belly. Nope. Not dreaming.  
  
Derek chuckled and looked down, "I was too frightened I'd make a fool of myself by trying to do what I call dancing so I skipped my senior prom and stayed at home playing xbox with Uncle Peter and Isaac, who didn't have a date either."  
  
Stiles nodded, watching Derek run a hand over his face, "And now?"  
  
"Now what?" Derek asked, his eyebrows furrowed.  
  
"Now can you dance?" Stiles clarified, scooting closer until Derek's knee is pressed flush against his thigh, the warmth of his skin seeping through Stiles' uniform pants pleasantly.  
  
"Well," Derek frowned, fumbling for an answer, "I can't waltz, but I'm pretty damn good at grinding."  
  
Stiles' stomach dipped and heat pooled in his loins at the awkward admission, his lips curling into a flirtatious grin. "That sounds like something I need to be the judge of myself." He said, picking up the last bite of funnel cake and eating it with his fingers, sucking the tips of both fingers into his mouth to clean them. Derek was staring unashamedly, "No offense, but I don't think my students need to see that." He growled.  
  
Stiles laughed and rested his long fingers on Derek's knee. "Not here, _Professor_ ," and god, he didn't miss the way Derek's eyes flashed at that, "There's a nightclub called Jungle not far from here, I happen to know they've got a pretty talented DJ." Had he been there Ethan would have been preening under the praise.  
  
Derek's eyes flashed to his lips again, the hand on Stiles' neck drifting up the swipe at the corner of his lips, "You've got..." He trailed off, pulling his finger away to show Stiles the powdered sugar clinging to the digit. Stiles blushed and mumbled a thank you, suddenly feeling less sexy and suave and a lot more clumsy and awkward. But Derek didn't break his gaze, instead slowly lifting his finger to his mouth so that his tongue could flicker out and catch the remnants of the sweet from the pad of his thumb.  
  
Stiles' heart skipped a beat and before he knew what was happening he was surging forward to catch Derek's lips in an open mouthed kiss, this one more frantic and hot than the one before now that both parties were on board with the idea. He pulled away to nip at the older man's lower lip and pulled back with a grin as Derek growled.  
  
"Here's the plan, you're going to give me a ride back to the station so I can pick up my jeep and go home to change while you wrap stuff up here then we're going to meet up at the Jungle at 11 o'clock. Capisce?" He asked, lowering his lashes at Derek who was giving him a downright predatory look.  
  
"Capisce."


End file.
